


polychrome skies

by sohmins



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 15:58:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12257547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohmins/pseuds/sohmins
Summary: The world ends with neither a bang nor a whimper, but with something in between; in which Jennie and Jisoo have only each other as the world around them falls apart.





	polychrome skies

The sky is yellow; a dirty, murky yellow, like too much dirt is scattered over it—and it is. It’s been this way for what feels like forever, though in reality it has been only a few weeks.

 

Jennie leads the way through the crowd, her grip on Jisoo’s hand tight and unyielding. She glances back every once in awhile. “Stay with me.”

 

More shoving, sounds of people crying out. Fights breaking out. “I’m right here.”

 

The lines for food are only for show; you have to fight your way to the front to get even the scraps. Food is running out; everything is running out. Food, water, money.

 

Time.

 

They make it past the first clump of people, careful to step over the bodies on the ground. Jennie knows her hand will bruise with how tightly Jisoo is gripping onto it as well, but she can’t complain. She looks back again—looks at Jisoo’s face: the smudges of dirt, the tousled hair, the wide, worried, but trusting eyes.

 

Jennie nearly runs into another group of people. She faces forward again, but calls back, “We’re almost there.”

 

“I know.”

 

\--

 

The sky used to be blue; a clear, refreshing blue, a sight soothing to the eyes and the mind when one looked up. But then the news reports began warning them of disaster, and in time the sky turned yellow.

 

\--

 

The sky is orange; an ominous orange, one that reminds them of the sunset but is too bright to be the same.

 

It’s hotter now.

 

“We can’t use any more water, Jen,” Jisoo says as she settles down next to Jennie on the floor. They’re in an old apartment—been there for two days now. It was abandoned by its previous owners, and luckily the owners had foresight enough to stock up on water. Why they abandoned the apartment, neither can figure out.

 

Jennie sighs, and leans over to rest her head on Jisoo’s shoulder. Had this been months ago, they would have played a movie or messed around on their phones; but technology was practically useless now because of the breakdown of not only the Internet services, but also electricity and utilities in general.

 

So Jennie tilts her head up and presses a kiss to Jisoo’s jaw. Jisoo can’t help but smile. “We’ll have to wash up . . .”

 

Jennie turns more toward Jisoo, kissing up to her ear. “We’ll have to wash up either way, it’s so hot,” she whispers, and Jisoo gives in.

 

\--

 

The sky is red; a hostile but fascinating red, the color so brilliant and saturated that, had their phones still worked, Jennie would have loved to photograph it. But they don’t have functioning phones, so they just watch the sky.

 

They watch the sky—the bright, vibrant sky—as it bathes the world in fire.

 

\--

 

“It’s purple.”

 

“Still seems red.”

 

“But remember how it was almost orange? There aren’t any hints of orange anymore. It’s turning purple.”

 

Jennie squints at the sky. Grudgingly, she says, “I guess you’re right. But why purple?”

 

Jisoo shrugs, giving Jennie a look. “How would I know?”

 

But rather than focusing on the question, Jennie finds herself focusing on Jisoo. Her hair is more tangled now, since they lost the last hairbrush when escaping from the apartment (because rather than abandoning the apartment, the owners had laid a trap to lure in food). Near her hairline is a cut, now scabbed over, less alarming than it had been a few days ago.

 

And she’s lost so much weight. Her face is gaunt, her jawline more defined, and Jennie knows that under that oversized, stolen t-shirt her ribs are clearly visible—she has counted them, while Jisoo slept.

 

Jennie remembers how they were in their university dining hall, stuffing their faces with pizza, when the news was first announced.

 

Jisoo snaps her fingers in front of Jennie’s face. “Hey, quit spacing out, it worries me.”

 

“But I _am_ worried.”

 

Rolling her eyes— “What’s there to be worried about? We’re alive and doing okay—getting by.”

 

“For how long?”

  


In the silence that follows, they look back at the sky—the borderline magenta sky.

 

\--

 

The sky is definitely purple now, a deep wine purple with glimmering yellow sparks in the distance, and as dark as it is in the beginning its color is only getting lighter and the temperature is only getting hotter.

 

Jennie is lightheaded more often. She knows Jisoo is deteriorating, but the fact that Jisoo is the one constantly helping Jennie makes Jennie wonder about her own state.

 

There are less people now, too, and she can’t remember having seen another living person in months. The dead are everywhere.

 

They’ve taken shelter in the ruins of a grocery store—the walk in refrigerator, to be exact. But the refrigerator feels like nothing less than a microwave, and Jennie finds it increasingly harder to breathe.

 

“It’s so hot,” Jennie whispers, and she can barely hear her own voice over the incessant ringing in her ears.

 

But Jisoo must hear her—or hear something, at least—because she turns her worried eyes back to Jennie. “You’ll be fine,” she says, but Jennie reads her lips more than she hears her words.

 

The heat is deadly, suffocating, and it’s choking the life out of the world.

 

\--

 

When Jennie opens her eyes, they’re surrounded by pink. A lovely, gentle, flamingo pink, nothing like the hellish shades of the earlier months—weeks—days—she forgets.

 

Jisoo is there. Jisoo is always there.

 

She helps Jennie sit up, helps her rest her back against the crumbling plaster of the only wall still standing in that room. The outside air is circulating into the room, and the temperature keeps rising.

 

Jennie reaches her hand up, toward Jisoo’s face, and Jisoo leans closer. “Your face is pink,” Jennie says, a small smile on her face. It reminds her of the way Jisoo always used to blush whenever she was complimented . . . she used to be beautiful.

 

She is still beautiful to Jennie, but Jisoo is no longer the beauty she once was. The world has stolen that from her; has stolen most everything but her life.

 

“It’s because of the sky,” Jisoo says softly, and her smile seems pained. “The sky is pink now, Jennie.”

 

Jennie looks up, and sure enough, the pink they’re surrounded by is the sky. There is not a cloud in sight, but there are foreign trails of light scattered throughout, like shooting stars. Jennie finds herself smiling again. “Make a wish, Jisoo.”

 

Jisoo looks up, and her eyes focus on the tracks of the stars. She takes a slow breath, and swallows nervously . . . but when she looks back to Jennie, her gaze has nothing but love and comfort. “I made mine. What about you?”

 

Jennie nods, or tries to. She also tries to swallow, but her throat is dry. “This isn’t what I wished for, but I want to go skiing one day,” she says quietly.

 

She thinks she sees Jisoo choke back a sob, but she can’t be sure. She forgets.

 

\--

 

“Jen? You awake?”

 

Jennie breathes deeper than normal, and Jisoo knows that’s her response. “The sky is beautiful, Jennie. Try looking at it?” Her voice is rattly, as if she’s holding back from coughing. There’s so much dust now, it’s hard to breathe, let alone open their eyes. But Jennie takes another breath before slowly squinting her eyes open—

 

“It’s so bright.”

 

“I know.”

 

She tries again—tries opening her eyes fully—but she can only look at the ground, because the sky is so, _so_ bright she can’t possibly face it. “Is it white?”

 

“Seems like it. More like a light pink though. Really light, and really pretty. You’ll adjust in a few minutes—oh, Jennie, it’s beautiful.”

 

It’s been so long since she’s heard Jisoo sound so excited—so _happy_ —that Jennie forces herself to keep her eyes open. They adjust to the light, and when Jennie finally looks up at the sky, her eyes widen, and she gasps.

 

It _is_ beautiful—a pale, light pink, like frosting and cotton candy, pearls and ballet shoes—and there are glittering orbs of orange _everywhere_ , shooting toward them, getting larger by the second. It’s beautiful, ethereal, something she knows neither could be imagining because _wow_ , what a sight it is.

 

Then Jennie looks to Jisoo, who’s sitting next to her, still staring in awe at the sky. The wonder in her eyes . . . Jennie feels content. If this is how everything ends, then Jennie can go without a complaint.

 

She limply holds her hand out, and Jisoo doesn’t hesitate in taking it, holding it close to her chest. Their skin feels like sandpaper, their hands feel like bones—look like bones. Skeletons of what they once were.

 

The world is a skeleton, the dried remains of the spectacular life it once hosted.

 

“What did you wish for?” Jennie whispers, and the air is so dry it burns, so her words come out in a hoarse whisper.

 

Jisoo pulls her gaze away from the sky and looks at Jennie. Really, truly looks at her; at her tanned skin, sunburnt in some areas; at the worn and tattered remainders of her t-shirt and frayed jeans; at the familiarity in her dark eyes that are going in and out of focus. “To be with you when this all ends.”

 

Jennie squeezes Jisoo’s hand with the little strength she has left, and in that gesture Jisoo knows that Jennie had done the same. Because Jennie can’t move, Jisoo leans in, pressing her dry, chapped lips to Jennie’s.

 

Jennie smiles against her lips, the pressure familiar but still thrilling, and she ignores the scalding heat and the unnatural numbness overtaking her body. The sky sets the world alight in the distance, and as the light washes over them Jennie doesn’t acknowledge anything but the way Jisoo is smiling too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So . . . I wrote this in like an hour while I pulled an all nighter yesterday. I don't know—hope you like it?


End file.
